


You Make Eating Space-Food (slightly) Better

by piano4life1997



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Bucky Barnes's Metal Arm, Bucky doesn't recognize Steve, Camping, Captain America Steve Rogers, Lost Bucky Barnes, M/M, Modern Bucky Barnes, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson Is a Good Bro, Shrunkyclunks, Steve Rogers Has PTSD, The Avengers Are Good Bros, backpack?, bucky doesn't camp well, definitely backpacking, lumberjack Steve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-14
Updated: 2017-12-14
Packaged: 2019-02-14 15:44:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13010964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/piano4life1997/pseuds/piano4life1997
Summary: “Let’s go camping, Bucky,” he mocks, “It’ll be fun.”  Bucky brushes the dirt off of his clothes as best as he can.  He glances up to the sky and wonders how the hell he gets himself into these situations.---The man looks like he just stepped out of one of Sam’s cheesy outdoors magazines.  Bucky squints at him in the warm glow of the fire.Is he wearing a flannel?He’s definitely wearing a flannel.  He looks like a fucking lumberjack.  The dude’s wearing a beanie, he’s got a beard and his pants are loosely tucked into his untied boots.  Bucky’s mouth opens, but he doesn’t know what to say.  He sighs again.His life, man.---Or, the one where Bucky gets lost in the woods and stumbles upon none other than Captain America. *jazz hands*





	You Make Eating Space-Food (slightly) Better

**Author's Note:**

> So basically in this story, Steve is still Captain America and everything but Bucky was born later and the two haven't met yet. This can totally be read as a stand-alone but I'm probably going to add more to it later. Hope you enjoy! 
> 
> (Also - to anyone that might've read my other fic, Captive: I'm NOT abandoning it, I promise! This just popped into my head and I had to write it down. The next chapter of Captive should be out after I finish finals. :D )

Bucky’s foot catches. He barely manages to squeeze out a curse before he’s falling face-first into the dirt of the forest. _Again._ He lays there for a few moments before letting out a groan and pushing himself back to his feet. 

“Let’s go camping, Bucky,” he mocks, “It’ll be fun.” Bucky brushes the dirt off of his clothes as best as he can. He glances up to the sky and wonders how the hell he gets himself into these situations. 

Sam loves going camping. And not the easy, drive into the campsite, leave your shit in the car and just sleep in a tent kind of camping. Sam actually likes going _backpacking._ He loads up said shit into a backpack and hauls everything out into the woods or on top of a mountain to sleep in his tent. He makes his own fucking campsite. And Bucky had been pretty impressed with the whole idea of it until a few hours ago when he told Sam he was going to take a leak. Sam had shouted at him something about being 200 yards away from water and 1,000 feet off the trail or something and offered to tag along, but Bucky had adamantly refused. Sam was cooking dinner. Bucky was hungry. He didn’t want to have to eat crispy food on his first backpacking trip because his best friend had to come with him to pee. 

Yeah. He’s regretting that now. 

He glances at his phone yet again to see if by some miracle he’s got service. He doesn’t. Bucky lets out a sigh and keeps trudging forward in the direction he’s pretty sure their campsite is in. 

“If you get lost, the best thing you can probably do is just stay put and shout for me. I know the area pretty well and you really shouldn’t get out of shouting distance anyway,” Sam had mentioned on the drive up.

The thing is though, Bucky is stubborn as hell. When he realized he didn’t know exactly where he was after he finished peeing, he didn’t want to admit it. So he took off walking in what he thought was the right direction. He even swallowed his pride and tried shouting for Sam after he realized he was _legitimately_ lost. No luck. So much for not getting out of shouting distance. 

So now Bucky’s telling himself he’s going in the right direction, but he knows he really has no idea where he’s going because _everything looks the fucking same_. He swears he passed that tree with the slight lean to the left and furry stuff growing up the side like four times already. He’s probably walking in circles at this point. 

He pulls his thin jacket a little tighter around his body. Sam warned him before they came about packing layers, too. Said the temperature would drop pretty low at night but that they’d be fine because he had a spare cold-temp sleeping bag Bucky could use and they’d have a fire. 

Bucky grumbles under his breath as he starts walking again, taking a little more care about where he puts his feet. He glances behind him, but shakes off his uneasy feeling. The sun was quickly sinking and Bucky could feel the drop in the temperature already. His feet hurt from hiking all day, he still hasn't eaten, and now he’s getting cold. _Fucking fantastic._

He keeps walking, throwing glances over his shoulder to make sure he’s keeping the sun at his back. But eventually, it gets hard to see. Bucky fishes his phone out of his pocket and switches the flashlight on. It’s unsettling to say the least. He can’t see much of anything outside of the light of his phone, and what he does see is bathed in the bright white light that makes shadows stand out too much. He shivers and flexes his fingers. They’re getting stiff from being out in the cold, but Bucky’s realized trying to walk with his hands in his pockets is pretty damn useless. He’d lost his balance too many times to try it again. 

And he trudges on. 

\---

Bucky’s phone is on 1%. It’s only a matter of time before it dies and leaves him out here in the darkness to face his own death. 

Okay, that was a little melodramatic. Bucky’s pretty sure he read somewhere the average person can go, what, like 3 days without water?

Everything plunges into darkness and Bucky groans loudly. He stops walking, because he’d really rather _not_ faceplant in the middle of the woods in the middle of the night, thank you very much. He lets his eyes adjust and tries to figure out what the hell he’s going to do now. 

There’s a soft orange glow off to his right. _Huh._ Bucky knows he’s been walking for awhile, but it can’t be dawn yet. _Right?_ He listens hard, and hears the unmistakable pop of a campfire and _oh sweet jesus he made it back._

“Sam! That better fucking be you, Sam and you better have your shitty space food cooked!” Bucky beelines for the fire, not caring how much noise he makes charging through the forest. He keeps shouting until he gets close enough to the campsite to realize that it’s not theirs. 

And someone that is definitely _not Sam_ snorts in amusement as he bursts through the fucking _hedge_ that’s surrounding the edge. 

“Sorry to disappoint,” Bucky stops in his tracks at the sound of the deep, amused voice that’s coming from the man sitting in front of the crackling fire. And _holy-_

The man looks like he just stepped out of one of Sam’s cheesy outdoors magazines. Bucky squints at him in the warm glow of the fire. _Is he wearing a flannel?_ He’s definitely wearing a flannel. He looks like a fucking lumberjack. The dude’s wearing a beanie, he’s got a beard and his pants are loosely tucked into his untied boots. Bucky’s mouth opens, but he doesn’t know what to say. He sighs again. _His life, man._

“Are you lost?” Lumberjack asks, “I have some extra food in my pack if you’re hungry.” He stands up and throws a thumb over his shoulder to where his backpack is resting against a tree. Bucky stares a little more because _damn this guy is built,_ but he shakes out of it and smiles warmly. 

“Man if you don’t mind, that would really be awesome,” Bucky gives himself a mental pat on the back for being able to form words. Lumberjack springs into action as Bucky wanders closer to the fire. Now that he’s stopped moving again, he’s realizing just how thin his jacket really is. “I’m camping with my friend for the first time, and he neglected to tell me how easy it is to get lost in the woods.” He groans a little as he sits down next to the fire and stretches his hands out. It feels so good to _sit._

Lumberjack chuckles and pulls some stuff out of his bag. “Yeah, I’ve been there before. Not a good feeling, huh?” Bucky stares into the flames and shakes his head. “So, uh. You kinda seem to have an aversion to dehydrated meals and all,” Bucky throws his head back and groans again. “But this is really all I’ve got, pal.” Lumberjack comes back to the fire and sits next to Bucky. He’s holding a little fuel canister, a pot, and a blue plastic bag. 

“I’m honestly not really in a position to complain,” Bucky says. He watches as Lumberjack swiftly sets up the little cook stove. He grabs his water bottle from where he left it and gets the water heating up in no time at all. Bucky’s impressed. This dude obviously knows what he’s doing. “Do you like lasagna?” Bucky snaps his head up to meet Lumberjack’s face. He’s grinning sheepishly and holding up the blue bag. Bucky opens his mouth to speak, but his stomach growls instead. “I’m gonna take that as a yes.” Lumberjack chuckles again. 

“Hey- I’m Bucky, by the way. Probably shouldn’t steal a guy’s food without even telling him my name first, right?”

“Shit, sorry,” Bucky thinks a blush spreads across Lumberjack’s face, but it’s hard to tell in the warm light being cast by the fire. “I’m Steve. S’nice to meet you.” Lumberjack - Steve - offers his hand to shake. Bucky thinks he’s being sarcastic at first, but a glance at his earnest and open expression has him smiling again and reaching out to grasp the guy’s hand. 

“Nice to meet you, too, Steve. You’re literally saving my ass right now, and I’m not really sure if thank you is enough to cover everything, but,” Bucky shrugs, “Thank you so much.” His Ma would kill him if she knew how long it took him to get himself together enough to be polite. 

Steve looks down at his stove and rubs the back of his neck. “‘Course. What else would I do?”

Bucky laughs. “I can think of a lot of things any normal person might do if a stranger barged into their campsite in the middle of the night.” Steve flinches ever-so-slightly at the word “normal,” and Bucky feels shame creep up his spine and start to color his cheeks. 

_Jesus Christ, Barnes. You know next to nothing about this guy and you’ve already managed to hurt his feelings. What would Sam think?_ Bucky watches as the confident blond adonis before him hunches his shoulders and stares into the pot of water. Bucky tries backpedalling. 

“Shit, man. I didn’t mean it like that. I meant you’re special --” Bucky cringes internally at his wording. So much for being able to form words. He takes a deep breath and tries again. “Not everyone would be kind enough to help me out, ya’know? I appreciate it. I’m not used to people being nice to me.” Bucky tugs on his ruffled hair that’s just shy of his shoulders. “I mean I’m not exactly the picture of a friendly face. _You,_ on the other hand --” Bucky cuts himself off and looks to the sky. “And I’m going to shut up now before I put my foot even more in my mouth. I just need to get back to Brooklyn, man, I’m not cut out for this.” 

A small smile was spreading across Steve’s face as he let Bucky ramble, but at the mention of Brooklyn he gets too excited to listen any longer. “Did you say Brooklyn?” 

Bucky’s honestly just relieved that the subject’s changed. He looks at Steve again - smiling, slightly leaning forward and with that glimmer back in his eyes. Bucky puffs out his chest a little and smirks at Steve. “Brooklyn born and bred.” 

“You’re kidding me,” Steve smirks back, “Me too. Where you from?” 

“Brooklyn Heights. You?” 

Steve’s eyebrows raise and he whistles to himself. “What’re the odds? I grew up in Brooklyn Heights, too.”

“What?” Bucky’s mouth drops. “Why have I never seen you before? _How_ have I never seen you before?” Steve rubs at the back of his neck and chuckles a little. 

“I haven’t exactly been at home much,” he glances up at Bucky, “Just got back in the states a few months ago, actually.” 

“No way! Where were you?” Steve’s hands are shaking a little as he tears open the package to Bucky’s dinner and sets it on the ground. 

“I, uh, was deployed for a long time. I haven’t been in New York in a while.”

“Ah - My bad,” Bucky starts to apologize. 

“Don’t worry about it. It’s just nice to get away from the city sometimes, ya’know? I’m still adjusting and trying to figure things out for myself. And Brooklyn’s changed a lot while I’ve been gone,” Steve’s tone changes a little, “It’s not exactly how I remember it and it throws me off sometimes, but the woods are always the same.” He shrugs and pours the boiling water into the lasagna.

“You can say that again,” Bucky laughs.

\---

Bucky is going to chalk up his space-food not tasting half bad to the fact that he’s starving and that Steve is a pretty cool dude to talk to. 

\---

“You work in Brooklyn?” Steve breaks the quietness and turns his head away from the dying campfire to look at Bucky again. 

“Nah, I’m working for my buddy at Stark Tower. We went to college around the same time and he’s got me doing some crazy stuff now.” He holds up his left arm and the firelight barely glints off of his wiggling metal fingers. “Get to make top of the line prosthetics mostly, but we do some other cool stuff, too.” 

“Damn. That’s awesome. Your friend wouldn’t happen to be _the_ Tony Stark, would it?” Steve has that glimmer in his eyes again. The one Bucky is quickly learning he likes. A lot. “We’ve been talking about how he can market those prosthetics you’re working on to veterans. They’re pretty amazing.” 

Bucky smiles again. “Yeah. Yeah it is Tony. He can be a real pain in my ass sometimes, but he’s a pretty great guy at the end of the day.”

\---

They spend a few hours talking about how Steve’s friends, Nat and Clint, are helping him adjust to the New Brooklyn, how Bucky’s mom wants him to come home more often, whether or not Steve should sell his art, that Sam is probably going to launch a full-scale search and rescue party for Bucky in the morning, and anything and everything that comes to their minds. Talking to Steve is as easy as it is to talk to Sam. There’s something about him that screams earnesty and Bucky likes it. He gets the distinct feeling that Steve wears his heart on his sleeve and it’s one of the most endearing things Bucky has ever encountered. 

Eventually, the fire all but burns out. There’s a few orange embers trying their hardest to stay lit, but Bucky has started feeling the cold again. He’s in the middle of telling Steve a story about his sister when a full-body shiver forces him to pause.

“Shoot. You’re cold. I should’ve realized that. It’s cold outside. You wanna go in the tent? At least it’s outta the wind and I think I’ve got a blanket in there, too.” Steve reaches for his flashlight and clicks it on, making them both squint against the sudden light. 

“Nuh-uh. I’m not stealing your blanket.” Bucky shakes his head. 

“I really don’t need it. I’m not even cold right now. Nat just makes me take one in case something happens.” 

Bucky rolls his eyes and purses his lips. “Sure. You _aren’t cold_ right now.” He makes air quotes and scoffs a little at Steve’s _I’m-telling-the-truth_ shrug. “What the hell?” 

Steve shrugs again and starts walking towards his tent. “I retain heat well?” Bucky stares dumbfounded at his back until Steve turns to look at him again. “You gonna stay out there all night?” 

“You’re a bit of a punk, Steve. You know that?” 

“I could say the same for you. No no, actually -” Steve crouches down and crawls inside his tent and then pokes his head back out, grinning widely. “You’re a jerk.” Bucky laughs again and gets up to join him. 

It takes some maneuvering, but they manage to both get comfortable inside Steve’s small tent. Somewhere along the way a blanket got thrown over Bucky’s shoulders and he’s too caught up in the rapidly spreading feeling of _warm_ that he doesn’t notice much else. 

“So I swear this tent was actually made for two people, but uh. I guess I’m a little bigger than the average person.” Bucky stares at him. And then he takes in the sheer size of Steve sitting crisscross in front of him and then looks at the very limited space they would be sharing. 

_It’s gonna be a long night, Barnes._

There was just enough space for them both to fit if their heads were on opposite ends of the tent. Bucky had adamantly refused Steve’s offer of taking his sleeping bag and was trying to get comfortable on his side. He couldn’t tell if Steve was asleep yet or not. 

\---

The next time Bucky wakes up he’s _cold._ The residual heat from the blanket is completely gone and the cold seems to creep into his bones. His fingers feel a little clumsy and numb and he brings them up to his mouth to try and breathe some warmth into them again. 

“Bucky?” Steve’s voice is groggy and he shifts a little. Bucky tries to bury himself farther into the blanket. “You’re shivering.” Steve seems a little more awake as he places a hand on Bucky’s legs. 

“It’s fucking _cold._ Why aren’t you cold?” Bucky’s teeth clatter. Instead of answering, Steve sits up and starts moving around in the tent. Bucky hears a zipper pull down. “What’re you doin’?” 

Without preamble, Steve plops down next to him and manhandles Bucky so that he’s completely pressed against his chest and sharing his sleeping bag. Bucky starts to protest but _holy shit he’s so warm. No wonder he was out here in just a flannel he feels like a fucking furnace._ Steve adjusts the blanket around them and Bucky can’t help but melt into the warmth - pride be damned, it was too cold for that. Steve yawns. “Can’t sleep with all the racket you were makin’ being cold,” he says quietly. 

Bucky huffs. “Punk.” 

“Jerk. G’night, Buck.” 

“Goodnight, Steve.”

**Author's Note:**

> So I totally imagine a scene where Sam finds out Bucky found "Captain-Fucking-America" in the woods and "Yes I recognized him. I work at the VA, you dumb-nut. And it's not like he's a _national icon_ or anything." 
> 
> And Steve has obviously had some difficulty adjusting to this century and Bucky was the first person to treat him like just another human instead of Captain America and "it's totally not okay that he lied to him, but he did and he doesn't know how to fix it now and shit he still wants to hang out after he found out I'm Captain America what do I do, Nat?"
> 
> So yeah... Y'all want another chapter? 
> 
> (Idk why I'm asking, I'm probably going to write it anyway.)


End file.
